Dark Sun Lights a Silhouette
by itsavolcano
Summary: Lisbon is angry and it seems Jane is to blame. Has he ruined a good thing so soon? Or has someone out-conned the con? A month post-Blue Bird; One-shot


All typos are my own. Comments are lovely.

This starts off in T and then takes a sharp turn to **M**.

_When danger calls, a soul sets fire  
Ignite my fears, ignite desire  
Baby, you're the fuel_

("Phoenix"; Laura Doggett)

**Dark Sun Lights a Silhouette**

Lisbon was practically vibrating with suppressed anger, her fingers curled around the steering wheel, her jaw clenched as she looked straight ahead. She'd been slowing simmering for the better part of the afternoon, but during the car ride from the FBI headquarters back to her apartment the tension was palpable. Of course the root of her anger was a recurring theme in their partnership: he antagonized a suspect, the suspect lashed out to the point that he was put in a precarious position. Lisbon rescued him, then raged at him for being an idiot while cuffing the suspect. It was practically textbook.

But for the first month of their relationship, he had managed to avoid pissing her off so severely that she shut him out. They'd had minor squabbles and arguments, but most were centered on stupid things like not taking paperwork seriously or slipping decaf coffee into her mug when she wasn't looking. Minor offenses when compared to the usual Patrick Jane antics.

For the most part, Jane had been on his best behavior while out in the field. Of course, he still offered up ridiculous schemes and double-crosses to trick unwitting murderers and thieves, but the schemes never resulted in out-right danger. He no longer had a taste for self-destruction. However, the team had spent nearly five days on what had seemed at the outset to be an open-and-closed securities fraud case. Instead, the case had continued on with dead ends and false leads, leaving the team stuck at the office at all hours, trying to catch a break.

In the old days, Jane would have enjoyed any excuse to spend time near Lisbon, to trail along in her orbit. But now he had firsthand knowledge of the softness of her skin, of the way she arched up under him as she called his name, of how she looked flushed and sated. By the fourth day of late nights and limited outside-of-the-office time with Lisbon, Jane had decided to set aside the by-the-book police work. He'd never been a fan of it anyway.

And so he had set to corner a councilman he'd suspected of involvement in the securities fraud, only to find an even bigger whale: Senator Wilkins. Of course as was typical of most ruses, Wilkins and his bodyguard, a rather lumbering and fat-headed man named Pinky, had pulled guns on him before Cho and Lisbon could descend on the scene. Pinky had even managed to take a swing at Jane, clocking him in the right shoulder before he was tackled to the ground by additional backup.

As Jane had nursed his shoulder, attempting to garner a little sympathy, Lisbon had only drawn her mouth down in a terse frown. Instantly, Jane felt a pang of nervousness as he played back the situation from start to finish in his mind, seeking out the moment that had upset Lisbon. Nothing seemed out of the norm, not enough to warrant the cold shoulder from Lisbon. Suspects wagging guns in Jane's face was a nearly regular occurrence.

The interrogations and additional arrests took up much of the afternoon. And for much of that afternoon, Lisbon remained icy but only enough that he picked up on it. The rest of the team didn't seem affected. Instead, he tried to win her over. He brought her little treats through-out the day, a frothy latte, a chocolate donut, even a jumping origami frog. She'd politely thanked him each time, but hadn't met his eyes. Instead, she had remained bent over the paperwork and files as they wrapped up the case. Feeling a little dejected and confused, Jane had finally given up, feigning sleep on his couch. To his surprise, when 5 p.m. rolled around, Lisbon took the short few steps to his couch and nudged him, telling him in a flat tone that it was time to go.

Jane had spent the trip to the parking garage with his hands in his jacket pockets, bracing for Lisbon to finally voice whatever had bothered her for all of the afternoon but she remained mute. The longer the silence lasted, the more difficult he found it to speak up. There were a couple moments during the car ride that he almost bubbled over, but fear and concern caught the words in his throat. Had he ruined this before it'd even really begun? Were they so fragile that one ploy in the field had set her off? As they turned onto her street and then into the driveway, he resolved to find out what was bothering her. They couldn't go on like this, and he wasn't about to suffer through an evening of silent treatment.

Without a word, she grabbed her bag from behind her seat and headed for the house, leaving him to trail behind. By the time he made it in the house she was thumbing through the pile of mail, setting it aside while stepping out of her shoes. The sun was setting and the twilight hues cast a dimness throughout the house. He turned back to the door, fumbling with the lock then pressing his palms against the cool wood, sorting through his swirling thoughts. With a sigh, he gathered strength.

"Lisbon, we can't go on like this," he started, his back still to the room. "I know you're upset with me about something, and while I'm sure I deserve it, I'm trying to be more upfront. I would appreciate it if you could at least meet me half way when you're upset, and talk."

"I don't want to talk." Lisbon's tone was so even and final Jane's stomach dropped as panic continued to set in, alarm forcing him to finally turn around.

"We _need_ to talk—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes immediately falling on Lisbon, who was now dressed only in a lacey demi-bra and matching panties, the dark blush color bringing a rosy hue to her pale skin. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in waves, framing her face. Dimly, he was aware that she'd managed to undress quickly and quietly, leaving her clothes to wrinkle in a pool at her feet.

With a determined gleam in her eye she moved closer. He watched her, his mesmerized gaze turning liquid and hot as she lightly pressed her hands against his chest, dragged her nails along the buttons of his vest. Feeling heady and off-balance, he kept his hands pressed to the door behind him as she nuzzled along the column of his throat.

"I'm not upset. I'm not even angry." She pressed a kiss near his pulse point and he quivered at the soft caress of her tongue as she licked and nipped along his jaw. He felt her satisfied smile as she continued to drag her lips over his skin, her fingers curling in fists against the lapels of his jacket.

"Then what was this afternoon about?" He let go of the door, pulling her up against him, groaning as she lightly bit his ear before running her tongue along the mark.

"You mean you don't know?" There was a lilting, teasing tone to her question and Jane jerked back, surprised. "Are you telling me that the great, all-seeing Patrick Jane read the situation wrong?"

He studied her, noted the coy way she looked up at him from under a dark fringe of lashes, pleased with herself. Noted the matching lace bra and panty set, not something she typically wore on a work day, claiming to prefer cotton unless for a special occasion. She was vibrant and seductive, and he wanted her. He had missed seeing her this carefree all week, while they were both too bogged down with the case. Suddenly everything synced into place.

"You planned this." He smiled, a little in awe at having fallen for her con. What he had misread as anger was really just sexual frustration and lust.

"Not this _exactly_." She pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor before going to work on the buttons of his vest, shivering when his fingertips danced over her bare skin.

"No?"

"I had a hunch we might close the case today." She brought the vest down his arms. "And when we did… well, let's just say I wanted to be prepared."

"Oh, really? So full of faith in me, I'm touched."

"Hmmm, more like I was going to pull the 'bad cop' routine on the next suspect we brought in until they cracked." Lisbon grinned, meeting Jane in a hot kiss.

"I beat you to the punch, then?" Jane ran his hands down the length of her back, fingers tracing along lace and smooth skin before coming to rest along the soft curve of her ass before pulling her flush against him. "And you decided to turn the 'bad cop' routine on me?"

Pleased, Lisbon laughed so low and throaty it was practically a purr.

"Why didn't you drag me off to the nearest dark corner? I would have been very amenable." As if to punctuate his point, he caressed his hands along her curves and she shivered before giving him a one-shoulder shrug.

"I'm sorry you thought I was actually upset." He could tell by her tone that was a lie. She was pleased that she had pulled one over on him and he was positive given the years of bullshit he had put her through, he deserved whatever punishment she dished out. If that meant being at the mercy of a playful, seductive Lisbon, then so be it. It was a penance he was more than willing to pay.

Lisbon moved against him, gasping when he suddenly spun her around and pressed her against the door. She writhed as he rained hot, open-mouthed kisses down her chest and along the swell of her breasts. He ran his tongue under the tantalizing lace edging before reaching down and scooping her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"I guess you'll just have to make it up to me," he murmured against her throat as he carried her down the hall. Once inside the bedroom, she wriggled in his grasp and he complied, setting her down.

"I think I can manage that." As she playfully pushed him back onto the bed, he tugged his shirt open, unconcerned when buttons scattered around the room. Lisbon laughed as she moved to straddle him and he spread his arms out wide, letting her take control, his fists twisting in the thick duvet with each caress.

His easy compliance didn't last long, and he soon brought her further up the length of his body, his hands cupping her backside, lips and tongue trailing kisses along the soft flesh of her thighs. She let out a soft cry as he pressed his mouth against the lace before she reached down and moved the thin scrap of fabric. His amused chuckle vibrated against her skin and he murmured something about true partnership before returning to task, bringing her to the edge with lips and tongue. Soon, she came with a keening wail and he pressed warm, wet kisses over her skin while her breathing evened out. With eyes glassy and liquid, she looked down at him.

"Have I made it up to you yet?" she teased and he grinned, his lips pressed near her knee. And then with a wicked gleam in his eye, he rolled them over and nuzzled against the hollow of her throat, licked against the thrum of her pulse.

"Oh, I think you're just getting started."

FIN


End file.
